The morning is chilly and cloudy so I was surprised to hear more drips from the roof. Given how cold it was last night, I checked the steps for any ice before I went to get the papers. They were dry. I was safe.
I love Twizzlers, cherry Twizzlers. When last I did Peapod, I ordered a big package of them and put them in the cabinet. A few days later, I had a sudden need for Twizzlers. I went to the cabinet to get the package and was shocked by what I found. All the tops of the sticks of licorice were missing. There were gnaw marks. At least one Mouse had returned. The old-fashion mouse trap had been on the floor with a glob of peanut butter inside for weeks, even months. On Wednesday morning I happen to look down. A mouse was in the trap. I don’t think he was there long, not enough mouse poop around the trap. Because the car was buried, I had to let the mouse go by the front door. It jumped into the deep snow and disappeared, fate unknown.
When I was around eleven, my family vacationed on an island in Maine. The house was isolated, at the end of a tire rutted road with grass between the ruts. I have a whole bunch of memories from that vacation. My father bought lobsters for him and my mother. The lobsters were alive. My father put them on the kitchen floor, and when they moved, my dog Duke kept barking at them. We stood around watching the dog and the lobsters and laughing. I figure the lobsters went in the pot, but I don’t remember that.
There was a sunroom off the kitchen. I remember a Rocking Chair and a bookcase. In that bookcase I found Robert Louis Stevenson’s A Child’s Garden of Verses. I sat, rocked and read that book cover to cover. I fell in love with poetry. I was amazed by Robert Louis Stevenson. He understood me as if he had been reading my mind.
The house got close, too many of us and too few private places. I took my book and went to read in the car. It was pouring so I ran. I stretched out on the back seat surrounded by the sound of the rain hitting the car. I read, and I fell asleep. I was there the whole afternoon until my father came to check on me.
My parent’s devised a treasure hunt. We followed the clues and ran from place to place. I remember a clue stuck inside a rotted tree lying on the ground. Our last clue led us to an old barn which was falling apart. A side of it was hanging. It was a great old barn, one perfect for later exploration. Our treasures sat right by the front opening. There they were, easy to find Hershey Bars, the traditional ones. We were thrilled.
These memories sit in my memory drawer as clear as if they are new. I can close my eyes and see the house, the rocking chair and those Hershey bars.
